You're My Home
by guitar848
Summary: Heather Ramsden and James Sirius Potter love each other. Sometimes though, if Quidditch practices, Healer exams and otherwise are threatening to weaken their bond, all they need is a few hours to remind the other as much. Can be read separately, but works best with my other HP fics.


Author's Note: Hey viewing public! Not a one-shot pony normally, but I was feeling stuck and frustrated with one of my other stories and had a brain flash. In TSGSG James and Heather aren't together yet. And in MSSH, their splitsville. So, for you fans out there who always wanted this...here they are as a couple. Hope it rates, let me know. Lastly, I do not own any canon HP materials...just having some fun. P.S: Its 5 am...that's how inspired I was.

Alone in her West London flat, Heather Ramsden woke up feeling tired and listless. Immediately, she guessed why. They'd had the whole crew back together last night, the first time in months, and made the most of it. A few rum and cokes and shots of Ogden's Old later...

Godric, she automatically cursed, after miserably feeling a twinge in her temple, why had she consented to the Ogden's Old again? Oh yea...because they'd been "celebrating." Her Healer exams were over.

She guessed that was something. Those tricky buggers _had_ actually made for a pretty grueling April, between the hours buried in ridiculously complicated and gruesome anatomical books or tucked in a St. Mungo's potions lab. Heather still felt guilty about what a shut away she'd become, even from James and the gang. In fact, she was pretty sure she'd only spoken to her parents, what...five times the whole month? Yes...that...and lunch with her mother on the 9th. And the last time she'd seen Fiona before last night... had apparently been two boyfriends ago! God, not that it was ever easy when it came to Fireball, but she had some serious sisterly catching up to do this time.

Reflexively stretching out in bed, Heather quickly winced and clutched her stomach. Uh oh, she wondered nervously, that's not a good sign. That earlier twinge was supposed to be a hangover. These days' hangovers were one thing to the Muggleborn, as dating James Potter made them almost second nature, but feeling that nausea on an empty stomach... and after such a crazy night...was trouble. That and taking stock of the fact that she was also stiff-necked and slow-brained, made her jump straight to the one explanation she honestly dreaded the most. A bloody migraine was coming.

Well girl, you haven't had one in like 3 months, so it must be time to pay the reaper, she mused sardonically. She took a couple pulls from a water bottle she had on her side table and kneaded her temple. It throbbed readily in response. The young witch then clenched a fistful of James's vacant pillow and allowed herself an uncharacteristically defeated moan. Of course this was happening! Last night had felt brilliant, like she was _finally_ come up for air after her arduous professional journey. They'd gotten pissed and had few laughs, there'd been an actually flaming cake... Apparently though, it had just been a mirage before she got sucked under again by worse than the Hogwarts giant squid.

Sometimes lately, being bogged down by the stress and loneliness of exam woes, Heath had let that drowning, helpless feeling take hold. It had made her question even the most basic things, from her talent as a witch to how much she deserved her friends and boyfriend. But thankfully, today was different. Bolstered by flashes of last night, her inner Gryffindor quickly attacked the self-pity. Buck up kid, she growled forcefully to herself, haul yourself out of this bed, find your bloody potion and the whole thing will be slept off before dinner. Hard as it might've been to believe, Heather even still had moments where she just plain forgot that she wasn't a Muggle like her parents, resigned to riding out their occasional maladies as best they could. Sure she had their blood, their DNA and their susceptibilities to certain conditions, but that, fair or not, didn't mark her to suffer like them. As a (hopefully) newly accredited Healer, she knew full well there were worse chronic diseases out there, both Muggle and wizarding alike people had no choice but to manage.

Bravely forcing herself up into a sitting position, while simultaneously grabbing for her wand, made the brunette dangerously dizzy however. Automatically dropping the wand onto her lap, Heather simply sucked in a sharp breath, gritted her teeth and hugged herself until the band of pain thankfully abated. Migraines in members of the wizarding community were unpredictable like that, she'd long ago learned. One minute you were just achy and off your game, the next minute you could be retching in the loo, fainting outright or hallucinating your dead gran. That's what James hated the most about it.

Merlin, she thought, suddenly a bit panicked at remembering her boyfriend, what time _is_ it? James got off practice around 12 on a game-less weekend. If he was to come over and see her like this...he'd freak. The charming, talented boy she loved had become a different guy these past 18 months since the headaches first cropped up. Nothing grinded his gears like seeing her suffer. The witch knew she had to take her potion and pull herself together on a Knut.

As it stood, the bedroom itself was still dark, but mostly because of her blackout curtains, and she could _just_ make out the sounds of life and traffic below. Please, please be only like... 9:30, she prayed wildly, eyes roving in the semi-darkness for an answer. A small clock on the mantle, above the fireplace, lit up a florescent green at her wand's silent command. A minute later, after a currently difficult analog conversion, Heather groaned and fell back onto her pillows. 11:43! How had she slept in that long while in pain? James was due any minute now. Sometimes, if he didn't shower, he was-

A loud, unmistakable crack came from down in the kitchen. "Heath!" he yelled, his boots loudly echoing down the hallway below, towards the den and her office, "Heath, where are you? Why didn't you send an answer with Ithaca about brunch...? Freds will be over in 20."

Heather groaned and numbly flicked on her bedside lamp. The sudden light caused a brief flame of pain to lick through her head, but she shook it off. She suddenly felt like a trapped rat. I could make a run for the shower, she thought weakly, pretend I was in a bath? But just the thought of such quick action redoubled her sluggishness. No, just grab a book then, play it off like you were engrossed in nerdom, her brain suggested. Her body responded just in time, as she heard her boyfriend mount the stairs, still yelling her name.

"Heath love, why are you still in bed?" he questioned softly, "Aether should've dropped word ages ago about brunch." His equipment bag thudded onto the hardwood.

The Muggleborn looked up from the page she'd been blankly staring at and gave him a cursory glance before returning to it. The words blurred before her. "Hmm? One second love, let me in finish the page," she said, trying for a light, carefree tone. But her tired, hoarse voice betrayed her and she sensed the wizard's immediate confusion as he walked across the room and leaned over the bed towards her. "James," she chided, even chuckling dryly, "You're in my light."

Suddenly, his one hand appeared over her page and his other cupped her cheek, gently tilting her head until their eyes met. He easily pulled the book out of her grasp and tossed it aside toward the foot of the bed. Heather saw a familiar crease of worry on his brow and a tender crinkle in his stupidly intoxicating hazel eyes. She was such a shitty actress, she mused dejectedly.

"What's wrong babe?" he murmured, eyes drinking in her worn appearance, "You're pale and you didn't sound...right... just then."

She sighed wearily and reached up, pulling his arm down into her lap and idly tracing his palm with her finger. She was careful to shift so that his weight wasn't pressing on her tight and still roiling midsection. "Sorry Jimmy," she started carefully, "I was taking the piss a bit just now. Thought I could play off how zonked I am."

James let out a mirthless chuckle. "I knew _that_ much, you silly. As much as we drank last night, I'd be surprised if you weren't _at least_ hung over. But this isn't just that right? I mean...it's like you're battling the world just to focus on me." He folded up her antsy fingers and stroked the back of her hand in soothing circles. This time, a thrill went through her that had nothing to do with pain. She was an idiot for trying to hide from James. After being friends for over 8 years and having recently celebrated their 3rd anniversary as a couple, he could read her like an open book.

"I think it's a migraine," she said slowly, frowning at how much the pain was getting to her this time. James was right, even though he was only a foot away, she saw him through a haze.

Predictably, the young hothead screwed his face into an angry grimace and blew out a breath through gritted teeth. "I _knew_ it," he seethed, ruffling his messy black mane, "Nothing else keeps my girl off her feet than this _stupid_ Muggle illness no Healer can seem to manage properly. That bloody old git in Salem, you remember him? Specializing in Wizarding treatments for mutated Muggle maladies. 'Just take this potion and this potion Ms. Ramsden and in 6 months you'll be right as rain and never shall a migraine bother you again.' I'm sending that bloke an International owl and telling him to shove his-."

Heather pressed a finger to his lips and shushed him. His eyes seemed to darken defiantly, but he bit back his words. "James, baby, please stop," she began firmly, "I love you for wanting to fight harder for me, but in the end we just have to deal with them as they come now." Her tone changed to imploring, "Three months was a pretty good stretch right? The longest yet. I got through my exams with no headaches! That's more than I could have hoped for after the debacle that was N.E.W.T.s." James was scowling that much deeper at that reminder (N.E.W.T.s had been the darkest days). So taking advantage of a clear-headed moment, she gently swooped in and brushed her lips delicately against his. He smelled like grass and sweat and deodorant, but she hardly cared. Pins and needles danced through her right side as she leaned into the kiss and into him. That she hardly cared about either. This right here, his arm lightly on her back, holding her up...his familiar probing kisses, this was her refuge. Her home. The migraine could knock her around as much it wanted, but it couldn't match the passion she had for James at a moment's notice.

She shuddered and closed her eyes, fighting to stay with him as bile rose in her throat...but it was no use. The Muggleborn broke it off without warning, clamping her mouth closed and clawing at the blanket. James barely hesitated, knowing his girlfriend would have only tapped out for one unrelenting reason. He lifted her high, from the waist (his lift had gotten better over the years), and prayed they'd make the adjoining bathroom, for her sake especially.

Heather's pain spiked at the quick movements, but she had a goal. 30 seconds...you can hold on for 30 seconds damn it. She was numb until her feet hit hard tile and she bent automatically, arms reaching clumsily for the bowl. The witch vaguely heard James slam the seat up in time and pull back her long, loose brown hair before she retched violently. Tears sprung to her eyes by the third heave and before she knew it...it was all over but catching her breath. The lights had been turned on too, but that one sensitivity chose not to rear its ugly head, for now. She turned her head to see Jimmy sitting slumped against the wall, knees to his chest and his wand loosely in his right hand. At her move he had started violently, but a quick shake of her head caused him to relax back down and sigh heavily.

"Better now?" said the raven-haired wizard thickly, eyes oddly bright and still definitely wary. He conjured her a cup and filled it with water, before floating it over. As she rinsed her mouth, he coughed awkwardly and thumbed his wand, causing a brief trail of nervous red sparks to flicker between them. It wasn't the first time that'd happened though. James hastily dropped the tool of walnut and phoenix feather to the side and clasped his hands loosely together. Safe in the knowledge that there was nothing left or no reason to retch (at least unless the pain set in again) Heather nodded weakly and placed the cup in the trash. Next, she crawled over and scooted into her boyfriend's lap. He wordlessly accepted, cradling her head into the softness of his t-shirt and calmly stroking her hair.

Normally, she would have scoffed at the ridiculousness of this little scenario. She was a practical, logical and intelligent young woman who knew that she ought to take this moment to finally take her potion. The floor was hard and unforgiving through her thin pajama bottoms and James obviously (herself too really) needed a shower. But Heather was bone-tired...and she'd missed out on so many moments with this guy lately. It wasn't anything they could've helped, the exams and practices were both what they'd signed up for, but it was what they'd been reduced to.

Right now, she didn't want anything else but him. Just for a few more minutes. "What happened to Freddy?" she murmured, suddenly remembering his earlier decree. Her finger wormed at a rip in the knee of his jeans, lightly brushing back and forth on his tanned skin. She glanced up to see him smile faintly (he was ticklish in weirdest places that way) and then shift to bring his other hand down to steeple against hers.

"I put him off with a Patronus message while you were at it," said the wizard, pushing playfully against her hand, "I put them all off. Said we needed a few hours."

She pushed back gamely, before locking her fingers through his, as was their routine. _We_ needed a couple hours she mused thoughtfully, _we_ and not _Heather_. Then they were truly still a unit. It was funny, back at Hogwarts it'd still been mostly _the boys_ or _the girls_. Sure they'd been together, but those dormitory bonds had been ironclad. But after graduation, the 'New Marauders' had inevitably left Jonah to the side when pursuing their latest adventure as Quidditch stars. And she...well...suffice to say Rige and Keira hadn't been set on becoming Healers. She didn't love them any less, or the boys Jonah, it was just the way life was now. "You didn't tell them why?" she queried curiously, "You know what they'll be thinking then."

James laughed. His real laugh this time, instead of the pained chuckles that had plagued them so far today. "Let them," he responded boldly, "You've got your own flat for many reasons." He leaned down, kissed her forehead and sighed. "I love you Heath...and I'm proud of you," he added softly and sincerely, "I'll take a few hours any way we can."

Heather smiled for the first time all day. Last night's edible flaming dessert didn't compare with that statement a wit. "Thanks. Love you too Jimmy," she said tiredly, fighting off a yawn. Thankfully, she was hardly nauseous anymore, and the pain in her temple was faded. She was however, ready to crash in her bed for a couple hours.

The oldest Potter legacy looked down and knew his girl had had it. She had ridden the storm like a trooper, but her lovely dark brown eyes could barely stay open. "You're so knackered love, I think I'm gonna have to send our regrets until a late supper at the earliest," he teased. He hoisted her into a sitting position and scooped up his wand.

"Hmmmm I know. Maybe admit all that exam stress and booze helped me run into my old nemesis. They'll worry otherwise...worry and think they should hop over. Better take the potion too though...faded out or not...just to be safe," the witch decided, as she let James help her to her feet. "I do feel bad about brunch though. Everyone's only together until tomorrow as is...and Jo, Rige and I were gonna check out a new book store in the Alley this afternoon..." Her voice trailed off to a disappointed sigh. James hovered as she crossed to the sink and washed the last of the bile from her mouth, before opening the medicine cabinet, yawning mightily.

Her boyfriend grinned ruefully, "Well...thank Merlin then. You and Jo don't need any more books. He's a only a poor Ministry liaison with a lovely French girlfriend who deserves only the best and you...you Ms. Ramsden are not getting paid enough to use that pretty nerd brain of yours yet."

The Muggleborn rolled her eyes. "Soon," she quipped pointedly, "Soon enough." After extracting a vial of the dark red liquid she'd been instructed to take during an attack (by that old git in Salem), Heather spared her boyfriend a glance and paused. Knowing it worked almost like a sleeping draught, she realized their moment was sort of at an end. She wanted say so many things. How thankful she was to have been in the compartment his cousin had forced him into on the Hogwarts Express. How, without that first train ride that she might've asked the Hat for Ravenclaw. And, most importantly, how despite how rocky things had been lately...how much she knew this was where she belonged. "You're my home James," she settled on, uncorking the vial as she did so. She looked away and poured it in. It tasted like cherry soda, just a little thicker and sweeter on her tongue. The Gryffindor fought hard to keep the cloying mixture down. Chasing it with water was a no go, it diluted the nature herbs. Please Merlin, please don't make me get used to it again. Once and a while I can handle but more...

James was in front of her in a flash, grabbing the empty vial and putting it aside. His hazel eyes stared into her and he said, "I know...because you're my home too." With that, he lifted her effortlessly in his arms and kissed her. Not roughly, like it was going anywhere, just...simply. Like a final bow... before he put her in bed and turned out the lights, waiting to shower until he was certain she'd drifted off. Because, as long as his home was in pain, a part of him hurt too.


End file.
